


We Got Time

by StarsAreMassive



Series: Black and Yellow [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Episode Related, Fluff and Angst, Iggy Milkovich (mentioned, Kev and Vee, M/M, Mentioned Gallaghers, Post-Canon, Prison, like a teeny bit of angst, post 9x06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 22:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17989664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsAreMassive/pseuds/StarsAreMassive
Summary: After the credits rolled in 9x06.Ian and Mickey might just get the chance for something they never had before.





	We Got Time

Mickey Milkovich had mastered an impressive arsenal of facial expressions in his life. Most of them centered around being unimpressed by someone else’s bullshit. Ian Gallagher liked to think he used to have more of an insight than most into deciphering the language that was a Milkovich’s facial tics. But right now, Mickey wasn’t even trying to be subtle. He looked unimpressed as fuck, and it was aimed right at Ian’s head.

“You look like shit.”

Ian still lay on top of Mickey like a slab. He grimaced and groaned into his neck, fighting down a blush.

“Yeah so says you, my family, the neighbours, and about three guys on the way in here.”

Hands started pulling at small clumps, tugging and raking as if they could rub the black away. _“Un-fucking-believable.”_

Ian pressed close into Mickey’s throat, enjoying the thrum against his mouth as Mickey muttered away. He breathed deep, inhaled a scent he’d been stupid enough to think he’d forgotten.

No one had ever smelled quite like Mickey.

And what a thing to cause the control he’d managed to maintain all day to splinter. Mickey didn’t seem in too much of a rush to speak. On a good day Mick was a motormouth to match the best of ‘em but actually said very little. When he had something that he wanted to be heard, it was short, fast, and straight to the fucking point. Like a punch to the head.

_I just want everybody in here to know, I’m fucking gay._

So Ian lay there, gulping in lungfulls of Mickey and every breath felt sharper and heavier as the weight of, well, everything, finally seemed to settle on him.

Ian hadn’t realised he was shaking until Mickey’s hands ran solid, heavy, comforting, over his back.

“Breathe, man. It’s alright. I gotcha.”

Mickey’s collarbone muffled the sob.

Ian tensed and tried to hold it in, shove everything back. He felt Mickey shifting beneath him. He felt his world titling on an axis until the cool painted concrete of the wall was at his back, and the warm heat of Mickey was at his front. His safe place, now.

His nose stung and he bit his lip - already chapped and cracking. His cries were punched out of his chest, choked grunts as even now he knew that he couldn’t let himself lose it completely. Mick’s grip on his arm was firm, and he let Ian get it out. Ian heard Mickey mumbling at him - into his ear, into his hair, ghosting over his face, “It’s okay. Everyone’s first day is rough. Get it all out, then you get that shit locked down. It’s alright. You’re gonna be okay.”

And Ian tried. He tried to get out the words. _I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be here. I fucked up. I’m sorry. I’m so glad you’re here. I’m the shittiest person ever, but I am._ But he kept choking on the first syllable, and Mickey just shushed him.

The clanks and yells from outside were muffled in their cell. Almost like a lull. Here in Mickey’s arms it maybe, after a while, could have been soothing. Eventually, Ian’s tremors subsided, and he pulled back, eyes pink and nose red he was positive, and looked at Mickey.

“You done?” He was smirking and teasing.

Ian nodded. “M’sorry.”

Mickey shrugged best he could laying on his side. “Won’t be the last time. Just wait until the first time you really miss your family. That one’ll knock you on your ass.”

Ian frowned and shifted so he brought his hand up to rest his cheek on. “I thought you said - after the first night -”

“Yeah. I mean, you gotta try. But fuck. My first time in juvie, I got landed in there two weeks before Iggy’s 18th birthday. I called him and everything. Wished him happy birthday. Then kicked out the kid I bunked with and cried like a bitch. Fuck. I don’t even like Igs, and it still got to me.”

Ian huffed and pushed him softly. “Yes you do.”

Mick shrugged. “Ay. It is what it is. My point is, if it got to me, fuck knows it’s gonna get to you, being apart from that fuckin’ colony you call a family.”

Ian cuffed his head. “You’re such a dick,” he laughed.

Mick smirked before his eyes got soft. “But they saw you off, right.”

“Yeah, yeah. Kinda.” Ian’s mouth twisted as he remembered Fiona’s no-show. “Lip and the kids, Kev and Vee.”

There was a flicker across Mickey’s face and Ian knew Mickey heard what he wasn’t saying, but he let Ian skip right over it. A toothy grin pulled at the corners of his mouth and his lip flicked out to tease the edges. Ian glared it him, pretty sure he wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

“What about your disciples, big guy?”

Fire burned across Ian’s cheeks as Mickey cackled at him. He groaned and buried his face in Mickey’s pillow. _“Fuh awpf,”_ he cursed.

“John, Paul, George and Ringo leave you high and dry, huh? Who the fuck was Mary Magdalene in that crew of fucking psychos?”

“Stop! Just -” Ian clamped his hand over Mickey’s mouth, but his eyes sparked with the words Ian forced back down his throat. “You shut up. Let’s just - forget it ever happened. We never talk about it. Got it?”

Mickey’s eyes darted around their cell and he leveled Ian with a look and one eyebrow cocked to the heavens. Universal Milkovich speak for, _“Really?”_ Ian released his mouth with a sigh and rolled onto his back. Mickey stayed quiet, but kept smirking as he shuffled up and sat with his back up against the wall.

Ian turned his head and watched Mickey stare ahead, and took the time to look at him. So much had changed, but then so little. He was still Mickey, with his plump lips, deep chest, sleek black hair and blue eyes. Yet his skin was darker - a tan that had been on its way to becoming permanent before he’d left Mexico. Ian spied a new tattoo on his forearm too that they were certainly getting into later. But there was a tightness around Mickey’s eyes that, sure, had always been there to some extent, but never this bad. It was the look Mick got whenever he was looking over his shoulder. When he had to be alert, but he was so tired. When he was waiting for that something to give.

Somehow Ian didn’t think that Mickey had spent much time at the beach down in Mexico like he wanted.

“What about you?”

Mick looked at him. “What about me?”

“Why are you here, of all places?”

Mick rubbed at his jaw and rolled his shoulders against the wall. Ian had got him uncomfortable. “We don’t gotta talk about that now, man.”

“But -”

“Relax.” Mickey dropped a hand into Ian’s hair. He pulled a little to get Ian to look at him. “You and me? We got a lot to talk about. That’s for damn sure. But we got time.”

Unlike those teenagers who had run full steam ahead to fucking, fighting, and falling in love. Those kids who were forced to grow up too quick in ways that had them terrified of each other. Terrified for each other. Those boys who had never had the time to sit and figure each other out and understand each other - not really. That’s why it had been so easy for everything to fuck with them and tear them apart, no matter how many times they tried to patch themselves together again. Nothing had ever burned slow with them before.

But now, yeah, they had some time.

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the same universe as my 'Tying the Knot' series.


End file.
